#Minnesota's passive-aggressiveness inspires me

[misery-has-no-company-now]

Some states when they think someone is wrong because the first and last ones randomly came to me

California and Nevada are the type of people who would say stuff like "I'm not saying you're wrong, but you're not right."

Washington and Oregon will just give judgmental stares to the person they think is wrong, scoff at them and say "Sure".

Minnesota will say "If you think that's right, then okay." (I think he did say something like that to Florida in his intro video, right? Went along the lines of "You'd just be wrong though" but I can neither remember it fully nor be bothered to go and check)

Colorado and Idaho themselves have no idea.

Wyoming will just tell them that they're wrong. If that poor person waits for an explanation, they'll be waiting their whole life.

[heffrondriving]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Which Side Of My Heart Are You On? ❜ : ̗̀❥ JO TAYLOR × LUCY STONE┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

: ̗̀❥ RATING: T // WORD COUNT: 9,080 // CHARACTERS: lucy stone, jo taylor // RELATIONSHIPS: lucy stone/jo taylor, obligatory kendall knight/jo taylor // TAGS: one shot, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, lil lucy angstiness, romantic tension, slice of life, friendship, pining, gay panic, flirting, confusion, internal conflict, self-denial, arguing, character study(ish), femslash, girls in love, canon compliant, useless lesbians <3, rarepair // AO3

: ̗̀❥ inspired by the song Like That by Stand Atlantic and dedicated to @digitalfate 💙

❥៚ 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆 (𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆) ─ೄྀ࿐

❝ Honey-coated speech and I’m overdosing It’s just like that (It’s just like that) Delicately dying for another minute It’s just like that (It’s just like that) Gold rush, what you digging out of me? This head rush, stomach’s in my neck I gotta stand still, dizzy, dumb and in between... ❞

Things have been weird. And while Lucy wouldn’t mind a dash of weirdness cutting up the basic monotony of her daily life, this was just asking for madness.

Well...there was asking for madness, and there was turning right to madness, and Lucy felt so impossibly caught up in the middle of it all that she would have given anything to feel normal again, even just for a second.

But that was also ridiculous. She was Lucy Stone, for crying out loud! She was hardly the poster girl of normalcy, and she rocked that rollercoaster ride hard and fast, no safety bars allowed. She was an up-and-coming punk goddess shacking up in the very heart of Heartless Hollywood, land of the rich and famey and batshit crazy. She had four good friends who also happened to be rowdy hockey players slash huge popstars slash absolute troublemaking hooligans from Minnesota, all of which constantly dragged her along their insane cartoonish escapades. And believe her, Lucy had tried normal, once upon a terrible time—having apple-cheeked, insidiously overwound, suburban basketcases for parents will do that to a ponytail-pulled kid.

And still, it was amazing—infuriatingly so—how none of it held a Yankee gift-basket candle towards the weirdest way Jo had been making Lucy feel lately.

So maybe that was Lucy’s own fault, a slow undoing by her own personal hubris a-la Ajax tragedy—after all, she was the one who chose to move back to the Palm Woods, despite the rocky not-quite-history she had with the place. With the way things were going for her flourishing career, she could’ve gone all-out and holed up in some nice ultra-luxury condo elsewhere in LA, preferably somewhere far away from her old lie of a life and the pretty little faces that came back to haunt her every restless night she was all alone and running on twenty cans of Pipeline Punch Juice Monster and writer’s block. But that just wasn’t Lucy’s thing. She was never the type to just up and run away.

Well, except maybe running away from her overbearing parents and their southern passive-aggressive authoritarian neuroses that got her poor older brother kicked to military school before she could get more secret guitar lessons from him, but that’s besides the point. If Lucy wanted to get over something, she would face it without flinching and confront whatever got thrown her way headfirst. If there was anything she learned from her cranky whipsnap of a violin teacher (and nothing more useful than sight reading and permanently disliking classical music, to be frank), it’s that quitters never get the break.

Well, okay—she had also quit the old hag for nearly breaking her fingers off with that damn yardstick anyway despite her father’s disappointed vitriol. But it turned out to be the best decision Lucy had ever made, since now she has broken away from her stifling classical musician past and finally emerged with her big break as the rock scene’s next big rising star. Even though whoever in her idiot desk monkey PR team that had the ‘brilliant’ idea to stamp her brand as a ‘pop princess’ smack dab on the cover of Wailing Note magazine out of all places seriously had another thing coming, because that couldn’t be any further from who she was trying to be. But trying to be the next Siouxsie Sioux with kickin’ song titles like ‘Teenage Anarchy’, ‘Eat My Dog’, and ‘Cut It Off And [redacted due to inappropriate graphic nature]’ don’t sell in this modern climate, so maybe Lucy could at least try to get Avril Lavigne and she wasn’t even tossed that fighting chance.

And now the cycle of Lucy’s woebegone life seemed to have gone from broken-up to breaking out and now right on the verge of breaking down, grappling with strange feelings she wasn’t sure were even hers to feel at all. Even with her pointless selfish reminiscing, Lucy knew this wasn’t just about her, wasn’t just about her messed-up past and her breakneck future making her feel a thousand different shades of weird, but it was here and now. In the present, with a girl she doesn’t know how to feel about. There was something about Jo Taylor.

Or something else Lucy was missing entirely.

There was bound to be some weirdness between them; after all, she and Jo both dated the same boy at some point—even though dated was a pathetically generous way of putting it for Lucy, what with the whole only together for barely ninety seconds deal before those fateful elevator doors opened up to a badly-timed kiss and imminent disaster. After her previous cheater boyfriend fiasco she nearly fell prey to again, the last thing Lucy wanted to do was to get caught up in an unexpected love triangle with all signs pointing to heartbreak highway with an inbound collision, which was certainly enough to break the hardest heads and make anyone’s mangled stomach drop all the way to the pits of hell.

But if her debut album was all about being strong and doing what makes you happy, then so be it. Nevermind that she also would have been totally singing out of her ass for 80% of the tracks (the remaining 20% was for the sick guitar riffs that could shred a whole factory of Dutch gouda into fine powder and disgustingly great sound production courtesy of Galactic Records, of course). Because apparently that positive fakery and callout girlpower sells and sells and sells, so hey, well done her. Make it until you fake it, right?

Anyway, all of that annoying drama was over and done with, Lucy’s had her petty little revenge via a hit Taylor Swift-esque masterpiece that landed her a cosy place on the music charts (which, in hindsight, wasn’t the most elegant of moves, but she was lonely and dejected and filled with enough unwanted spite to boil her body from the inside out, what else was a girl supposed to do other than go all Ophelia? Yeah, Lucy was tragic but she wasn’t buying into that classic brand of fridged-lady bullshit) and earned her a pretty cool future European tour, and now she had her rightful throne back at the Palm Woods along with her old close friends and a really lovely new girl friend.

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Lucy and Jo were only pretending to stand each other’s strained necks only to crush their heels down as soon as one let down her guard and looked away. Maybe they were only five seconds away from a slipped bitter laugh and tearing at each other’s throats with painted nails to the beat of flashing paparazzi spotlights and tonight’s E! News headlines. Lucy honestly couldn’t really tell anymore.

Sure, she and Jo were good friends now, but there was still something uncomfortable lingering in the air between them, hair-raising friction and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dispositions and an unspoken gravity that threatened to crush down Lucy’s tin can brain if she overthinks it for too long. The worst part about it was that Lucy couldn’t figure out what it was exactly—she was completely over Kendall (and any other stupidly complicated boy trouble for the foreseeable rest of her life, if she could friggin’ help it), that much was true...but why did she still feel a dull pang of something almost resembling jealousy whenever the Palm Woods star couple were together?

Lucy has tried to cut off that insidious feeling time and time again, but the indomitable hydra’s head just kept on sprouting back and multiplying twofold, poison veins and blood-red vision, suffocating her a little worse every time.

Cutting her own annoying head off would be a much easier solution.

That Sunday was one of those weird monster-brain days. Lucy and her two best friends had been meticulously planning this girls’ day out for an entire week now as their busy acting and recording schedules never seemed to perfectly align, and that day was the only free time they had to spare. Unfortunately, Camille had to be rushed back for a last-minute audition callback for the next series installment of hit TV show My Nanny is a Werewolf on Kidzie Channel. While both Lucy and Jo eagerly volunteered to entirely nix the hangout and come with her in support instead, the actress cheerily waved their offers off, telling the girls that Logan was already coming with her anyway and she didn’t wanna ruin their plans any more than she already did, despite their assurances of the contrary.

With exchanged wishes of good luck, Camille bade her friends goodbye with a well-practiced weregirl snarl-twirl-snap combo and playful reminders to “have fun and behave yourselves while I’m away!”

Lucy couldn’t even muster up a smartass quip back to promise one or the other. If anything could send her nerves instantly unwinding end to end and back around her throat next to news of her parents coming around for a visit to subtly psychoanalyse her every disobedient move and street mimes (the creepy monochrome bastards), it was having to be alone with Jo.

Shit biscuits, this was so not in the plan!

It was going to be strange for them—potentially disastrous, even—not having Camille around, since she was practically the sole linchpin keeping their friend group together. With the veteran teen actress having been really close to each girl and being a steady presence in the Palm Woods and their lives despite all the ensuing changes and confusion, she was always there to ease out the looming tension and act as an impartial mediator between Lucy and Jo, always ready with a crazy story or a fun activity to rope in the three of them together. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but Lucy’s previous solo hangouts with Jo proved to be a bit dubious after exhausting their seemingly multiple choice chit-chat options about music and work and the-eyebrows-man-who-must-not-be-named, more often ending the conversation in question marks and uneasy silence broken only by a straw scraping against the bottom of the empty smoothie cup.

But Lucy was still determined to make the best out of what might just be a good thing. Maybe even the next best thing for them going forward. This was the perfect chance to figure out what exactly was going on between her and Jo. What’s the worst that could happen, right?

(Everything. Nothing. All of the above plus one and show the equations on scratch paper. The options were limitless and if this was a test of true strength and willpower, Lucy would rather stab herself in the neck with a freshly-sharpened #2 pencil than fail hard and embarrass herself. But she wasn’t gonna be a coward and run away, not this time. Not anymore.)

Their day was a whirlwind blur; a burning rush of exciting Hollywood lights beckoning their giddiest fancies and sweltering air competing against frigid mall air-conditioning, teasing flashes of soaring blonde curls and a steadfast hand clutching Lucy’s own, and creeping close contact everywhere she turned—every moment a suspect call, ocean bruises and rubinette touches turning into downward spirals and a bleeding fleeting desperation that seemed to haunt Lucy around like a phantom as she followed Jo around, while her friend clearly wasn’t feeling the buzzkill spectre shivering and sapping her bones dry of enjoyment.

That was good. That was bad. The answers were still a mess on the page.

For the most part, Lucy figured she did a pretty good job of the whole rigmarole. Despite her brain initially going full neurotic on her, it really wasn’t all as bad as her nightmarish fantasies had twisted it out to be. As a matter of fact, it was Mr. Fox levels of fantastic.

They visited some boutiques and spreed the shops to mix and match some cool new outfits for each other, and shared some delicious food at a quaint seaside burrito and taco stand afterwards. There, Lucy listened intently to Jo’s stories about getting the part of the beautifully wise nymph-child Emily Trace and her time in New Zealand filming for Chauncey Jackson, which the actress still fondly remembered despite the whole breakup deal and the disastrous theatre-burning aftermath that came with it. Lucy managed to crack snarky little jokes and laugh in the right places, also sharing funny and zany tour tales of her own. And, upon Jo’s not-so-brilliant idea once she spotted the two-for-one deal sign as they were heading back, Lucy also begrudgingly got French pedicures with her, which was a whole other level of horrifying for the punk girl.

She swore upon all the unwise deities in the sky that she was never letting anyone near her extremely ticklish appendages again no matter how skilled they were at prettying up her nails, thanks very much.

But that was the worst brunt of it otherwise. In a spur-of-the-moment madness, Lucy even ran with this whole dumb bit of going all gum-chewing tour guide for Jo and showing her around the city, completely playing into it with awed gasping, imaginary camera clicking, and dramatic posing and pointing at every nondescript building facade and rusty fire hydrant. Neither girl cared that every rubbernecking passersby shot them odd looks and disapproving glares, they simply laughed and ran away with arms interlocked beneath the cascading firestorm marigold of the afternoon skylines, cardboard cutouts of towering skyscrapers and palm trees silhouetting the dying sun as the day drew to a more peaceful close.

So yeah, to say it went great was a massive understatement. Lucy enjoyed herself a lot, but not as much as she enjoyed seeing Jo have the time of her life. It felt like their relationship was going to continue its ascending momentum, but...friendship shouldn’t have felt this stilted, this rehearsed, this performative. It shouldn’t have been this hard for Lucy to deal with. Even with her inexplicable thoughts, Lucy really liked Jo. And the sentiment seemed to be reciprocated, counting how many times Lucy made Jo smile and crack up—and in one instance, even choke on her ice cream as the punk girl described Camille and Kendall’s short-lived stint as figure skaters in full painful detail, insane best friend code and Logan’s murderous jealousy and James and Carlos getting glued together and horrible shiny purple costume and bloody Death Spiral and all.

Jo was incredibly easy to talk to, comfortable to be around with, all prettiness and sprightly charm and that adorably wicked smile edging out a smart veneer—it made Lucy’s stomach flutter something strange—maybe from hope, or maybe from indigestion courtesy of those killer all-American beef tacos. Long story longer, Lucy wants to be with Jo.

So what the hell was she doing wrong?

There wasn’t too much time for Lucy to think it over, and she was far too exhausted and simply relieved that she made it out alive. The two girls opted for one last quick corndog snack (well, Lucy did since she was seriously starving after their impromptu street run and Jo wasn’t the biggest fan of the food, but the actress bought some to take home for their hyper helmet-toting friend anyway), before catching the last shuttle to the Palm Woods and finally making it back to their home sweet home.

Make it until you fake it...

“Thanks for the awesome day out, Jo,” Lucy said as they reached the door to Apartment 3F, a place less supply closet chic and much roomier than her old one. She only moved into a second-floor space when she first returned as step one of her terrible ‘get rid of horrible songwriting rut’ plan. And after a whole week of sleepless nights courtesy of the nonstop racket in Apartment 2J, Lucy decided to save what was left of her hanging sanity by requesting a change in rooms, an arrangement that Mr. Reginald Bitters was all too happy to agree to once he saw the growing zeroes in her bank account.

However, this also meant that Jo’s apartment was only a few doors away from hers down at 3I, an uncanny coincidence that Lucy didn’t want to think too much about.

“No need to thank me for anything,” Jo replied modestly. “And thanks as well!”

“I’m super worn-out to the bone and all, but I had lots of fun and I really wanna do this again soon. Hopefully when Cam’s free so we can paint the town a shade of red brighter.”

“Yeah, I think I’d really like that too.” Jo smiled. “And Camille better be there, ‘cause she seriously missed out today and well...I say this with all the love in my heart, but you’re also a really lousy clothes shopping partner.”

Lucy chuckled, airily shrugging in reply. “Hey, no offence taken. If it wasn’t so obvious already, I’m really more of a DIY-kinda person when it comes to choosing my fits. I mean, where’s the fun in picking up Barbie doll cutouts when you could get to run loose with scissors and trick up that haute couture perfection into something awesome and unique?”

“Yeah, I get the whole getting bored with dress-up too.”

“Yeah?”

“Kinda, with all the outfits and costumes they make me wear for my acting roles sometimes...” Jo said. “It’s all gorgeous fun and fabulous fashion shows in the dressing trailer until you’ve spent half your week on the makeup chair after your fiftieth costume change of the day and end up in a molting chicken outfit in hundred-degree LA heat for an eight-hour shoot.”

Lucy whistled low at this. “I’ve had my fair share of getting stuffed into itchy grandma dresses by my mom, but yeah, definitely nothing as bad as that. I think my worst offender was a giant pink chiffon tutu for a church recital and I sulked up a storm the entire time for the performance that my annoyed dad practically had to drag me off the stage by my pointé shoes.”

“Awww, ballerina Lucy-goosey,” Jo gushed. “Now that I would love to see!”

“You’d have to pry it from my cold dead hands first.” Lucy sternly clicked her tongue. “But hey, anytime you feel up for a wardrobe overhaul, call me, beep me, ‘cause I’m your gal. it’s a hell of a time ripping ‘em up, and that’s definitely a thing I gotta show you sometime.”

“Mmm, maybe. Daddy taught me never to run with scissors, though.”

“Oh come onnn, live a little, why don’t you?” Lucy mimed a pair of scissors with both hands and poked and jabbed her flicking fingers into Jo’s midriff, making her cry out in protesting giggles.

“Hey—don’t, buzz off—you’re—such a bad influence—Stone!” She gasped out, skirting away and whacking Lucy with a Kate Spade shopping bag to fend her attacks off.

“As if you really need me to break your halo, angel?” Lucy winked. “I’m afraid it’s far too late to save your grace.”

“And you and me and the devil makes three.”

“Well, only you and me since two of those are the same things.” With a halfhearted evil cackle, Lucy swung the door open with a grand sweeping gesture. “Feel like entering the gates of hell today?”

Jo nodded gratefully as she welcomed the invitation. “I don’t know if I could take another step without collapsing, so wouldn’t mind a little rest,” she said, dropping her bags down on the couch and comfortably settling in with a sigh. “Thanks, Lucy...fer?”

“Oh, you won’t be thanking me soon enough.”

“Why, ‘cause you’re gonna make pretty confetti out of my clothes?”

“Hey now, alright, alright. No more running with scissors so daddy doesn’t take your supper away.” The punk girl held up two hands in surrender and sat down next to Jo. “Maybe just very carefully ambling with helmets and crash pads. That sound like a plan?”

“Just as long as that plan doesn’t include you abandoning me to cause some townie trouble with high school kids and howl at the moon.”

Both girls couldn’t help but giggle at the vivid image of the elegantly gorgeous Camille Roberts transforming into a hairy scary beast by performing her signature snarl-twirl-snap cheerleader move.

“Hey, down with team Jacob,” Lucy joked. “I promise I won’t abandon you, and this is just a little precaution so we don’t accidentally riches to rags those really good florals you picked out for me, ‘cause that’d be a right shame.”

Jo frowned at this, peach-pink lower lip blooming into that dainty little pout the New Town High writers had taken every opportunity to abuse in her infamous character Rachel’s scripts. Lucy couldn’t blame them, though. It was a pretty view-cashing quirk—even she was completely mesmerised. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Luce,” she said. “If you don’t like it, just say so. I’m a big girl now and I could totally take it. And anyway, we could always exchange it for those fancy aviator jackets you were ogling over. Oh yeah, I totally saw that, even if you didn’t tell me.”

“How dare you accuse me of being a liar—‘cause I’m totally not!” Lucy insisted, adamantly waving the tropical-patterned paper bag containing the incriminating articles of clothing. “You wanna see me wear that frilly frigging halter top everyday? Girl, you got it! I’ll even dye my hair Electric Bananas yellow and wear it for my next music video complete with Daisy Dukes and red cowboy boots to immortalise it forever in my shameful name, if that’s what it takes for me to prove it to you!”

“Wow, so desperate to convince me.” Jo delightedly laughed, a mischievous wind-chime twinkle. “Hold your horses, cowgirl. I’m already impressed by the dedication alone—although I honestly wouldn’t mind seeing you in that kinda outfit...”

Lucy’s throat tightened, suddenly finding herself unable to meet Jo’s cloying coffee gaze and pursed smirk as it wryly raked up and down her pale, gawky, ungraceful form. She was so unlike her beautiful American doll of a best friend, who was like all the pretty pink princesses and gorgeous Day-Glo Pop Tiger girls she either unhealthily obsessed over or resented with a misguided burning passion (or both) in her younger days. And well, apparently now—but would Jo agree to a music video cameo if it meant Lucy also got to see her in skimpy denim and sunbeaten leather of a sizzling hot Arizona desert cowgirl outfit—was Lucy insane enough to even consider writing a song in the godawful twangy music genre she despised with a burning passion just to make it happen...okay, nope, she wasn’t telling that, either.

“Well, you said no need, so no take-backs,” she muttered halfheartedly, both arms folded adamantly to press over her churning stomach—ugh, must be those damn fried franks too, how the hell did Carlos manage to scarf down a hundred sticks of them on the daily and not get a heart attack in the box?

“...Hey, are you okay, Luce?” Jo asked worriedly as she reached out and touched the back of her hand to her friend’s feverish forehead. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Me, not hot?” Lucy waved her concerns off with a lame scoff. “Pffft, that’s impossible!”

“Oh. Now that’s weird...”

“What’s weird?”

“For a moment, I swear I was talking to James Diamond of Big Time Rush and not Hollywood’s hottest pop princess Lucy Stone...”

“Okay, A. Don’t ever call me pop princess unless you wanna get turned into a toad, and B. compare me to that conceited IKEA rug-looking nematode again and I will take you down,” Lucy snapped, but immediately regretted her default mean girl tone when Jo reeled slightly. Oh, right. Not everyone was used to her brand of poison spit. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean that.”

“You didn’t?” Jo countered. “I’m always ready for a challenge.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save the taking down for James instead, the next time he tries to be a total pest with his stupid aeroplane-based makeout metaphors and toxic man spray fumes.”

“Wow. You really hate him that much, huh. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the boys on you.”

Despite Jo’s jesting tone, Lucy couldn’t help but feel a little bit defensive. “It’s not that I hate him, I just...” She sighed harshly. “I guess if you look past the bloated ego and the over-delusional Adonis complex and the general dramatic derangement, he seems like a decently nice enough person. A really annoying one, mind—but maybe someone I wouldn’t mind being just friends with.”

“Just friends?”

“Capital F-word Friends, period. Mark my words, Taylor, because I am damn well carving them on the gravestone I’ll rest on in my sweetest deathbed, that I shall never have a thing for James frigging Diamond,” Lucy declared, slapping the coffee table after every word to emphasise her point. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Which I will if you ever bring this utter nonsense up again or even mention a single word of it to James. Then I hope he dies.”

Jo sombrely mumbled something Lucy couldn’t quite make out, only catching the tail end of “...to know.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, just...” Jo shook her head. “Thinking about some stuff. Nothing important, really.”

“Oh? Then spill,” Lucy goaded. “C’mon Jo, you’ve seen me squirm and shriek my lungs off at that stupid foot spa torture chamber, I think that’s enough to warrant a no-more-secrets rule between us.”

“Well, it’s just that, the thing with James. Or the lack of it, rather.”

“What about it?”

“It’s not because of...the whole Kendall thing, is it?”

“What?!” Lucy’s tone rose to shrill indignation.” Why on god’s green earth would it ever be?”

“I don’t know,” Jo hastily backtracked. “I told you it’s nothing important, but I just never really thought of it this way before. Like, seeing how they’re best friends and everything...”

“Dude, come on—”

“Maybe it’d feel weird for you so soon after everything to have to see him around all the time.”

“Josephine, seriously, you’ve got a big brain on you. Don’t waste it on History Channel conspiracy theories and pointless MTV-level drama,” Lucy sternly berated. “But no, it’s because James is irritating and abrasive and keeps popping up everywhere like a bad rash.” She paused, making a disgusted face. “Okay, ew, that was a horrible comparison, but you know what James is like so you get my point. I told you I’m already cool with Kendall, and you and him have nothing else to do with anything that’s my personal business, except for being my good friends and good company. That’s all.”

Lucy wanted to mean it like she said it—but wowza, was that an Oscar-winning performance of a pretty little white lie or what? Either Camille’s extreme method actressing had been rubbing off on her lately, or it was just another one of those dirty tricks she had to learn the hard way after endlessly lying and being lied to in her last relationship. She was certainly good enough to fool hopeless hearts trying to chase her out of the friendzone and vice versa, so what’s one more lie? Laissez-faire life like this, you simply can’t have one without the other, as she found out easily enough.

That was the only easy part about it, unfortunately. I’d like to thank you with a side of choke, Academy.

“Okay. Just checking,” Jo replied after an extremely unnerving beat, dainty lips quivering as she stubbornly bit CW’s favourite thousand-dollar pout back into a serrated thin line. “‘Cause I’d really feel bad if—”

“Well don’t!” Lucy shouted in a crackwhip shock that made her friend flinch hard enough to taste blood. “I said what I freaking said—so seriously, just drop the whole annoying wounded kitty act and shut up about that for a moment already, okay?!”

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oh, great. Just when Lucy thought she was about to pass with flying colours, there came the surprise back page to clock her just as the time ran out. They were due in for a catfight anytime, weren’t they?

“Nothing,” Lucy dismissed, exhaling roughly and slapping a palm on the side of her head to fend off the incoming headache. “Just forget it. Forget about everything.”

“Lucy, I don’t wanna pick a fight.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you damn well act like it?” Hey woah, ixnay on the attitude, Stone, what the hell are you doing?!

Jo blinked helplessly. Took a step back. She appeared on the verge of something. Maybe falling tears, maybe unsheathing claws. Lucy had certainly shown her hand. Er, paw. Her own fists clenched and unclenched, leaving thin scarlet indentations on her palms with obsidian-black fingernails.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you,” Jo finally murmured. “I just want you to talk to me, Lucy.”

“What am I, using telepathy or something?”

The punk girl’s snarky response went all but unheeded. “No, I mean like...talk to me, please,” Jo begged, clasping desperately at Lucy’s marred hands. “I just feel like, I don’t know, we’re still holding some things back and the last thing I want between us is this...annoying awkwardness! Maybe it’s just me—maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel like there’s this sort of unpleasant tension hiding behind all the normal chatting and the joking, it’s like this weird space that I just can’t understand how to reach out to. It’s like, there’s something more going on here.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said evenly, trying to ignore both the sudden electric dithers from her fingertips starting to course through her nerves and the distracting fact that Jo’s skin felt so warm...

“That’s the thing, I can’t even begin to describe it. I don’t think there’s any rational way to! And I swear, I like you a lot, but if we can’t get past that—whatever that is—then...” Jo let go of Lucy and slumped her shoulders heavily, at a total loss. “Maybe there’s no point in trying to be friends anymore.”

Oh, Tony the pissing Tiger grrreat with a side of soggy cornflakes. Not only was Lucy’s worst suspicions confirmed, but it was apparently playing for both teams and everyone was damn well losing. No, really, she would rather take the hair-pulling and name-calling and kicking and screaming—she didn’t do well with pity parades, seeing how easily she could rain on it with her stupid shallow tears. Even worse than the ticklishness, it was seriously Lucy’s greatest, lamest, worst weakness ever.

“Listen to me.” Lucy startled Jo as she staggered forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, trembling touch seconds away from a good sense-knocking shake. “I chose to come back to the Palm Woods. I chose to ignite some trouble with the whole nutty song scandal. I made you believe I was still chasing Kendall just to douse more gasoline in my writer blocked-brain. Did I regret any of it? Yeah, a whole freaking lot, and I’ll never stop being sorry for being so stupidly petty...but I’m not mad anymore. I don’t regret coming back here. And I definitely don’t regret...” Being with you. “Being your friend.”

They were so close Lucy could feel Jo’s rattled breaths shaking past her lungs. Or was it hers?

“Really?”

“Well, duh!” Lucy broke into a genuine smile, which Jo hesitantly mirrored back, and Lucy’s grip relaxed into an awkward pat on the relieved girl’s back. “Hey, the whole thing with me and Mom Pants McGee was a fun little tryst while it lasted, but sweet boys give me a toothache anyway and I’m completely over him now. And I did get a couple amazing hit songs off his storky back, so hey—even stevens.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jo said regretfully. “I’m really sorry for bringing it up in the first place and trying to overcomplicate things again. I mean, you’re so pretty and talented and great to be around with—even if not in the fitting room,” Lucy shot her fond stink-eyes at this gibe, “so...I really don’t wanna lose you.”

“Back at you.” Top ten worst responses to a heartfelt conversation much? But Lucy really couldn’t say it back at the risk of her twitchy eyes going twin geysers, so she squinted and blinked rapidly to get rid of the blurriness threatening to overtake her sight. “But also, you’re still right about some things.”

“Like what?”

“Us, for a start. When I said I didn’t know what you were talking about...I was just too nervous to admit the truth. Because I’ve honestly felt that weird awkwardness too, and I didn’t wanna be the one to ruin things when they seemed to be going great, so I left it alone and hoped it would go away. I tried to make it go away. But maybe that’s also on me for not trusting you enough to really talk to you.”

“Oh thank god,” Jo blurted out. “I mean, not the awkwardness, but I’m really glad I’m not going entirely crazy. Am I bad for saying that?”

“The worst.” Lucy grinned, winking at her. “And you know what? To hell with all that noise! Life’s too short to get cold feet with your cool friend, and it’s too awesome to hang out with you, today alone proved that. I swear, I haven’t had this much fun since...I dunno, my first trip to Kidzieland just after my very first successful violin recital.” She cringed a bit at the inflicting memory. “Well, the recital sucked total butt and a half, what with more frilly dresses and rows of dead-looking old people silently watching a poor six year-old screech her way through Vivaldi Concerto in A Minor, but I just meant the happiest place on Earth part.”

“Ooh, violinist Lucy-goosey, I gotta pry that out of your cold dead hands too! Just kidding. But I really hope you’re not just saying that just to say it.”

“I know I say a lot of things—maybe too many things—but like I said, I never say anything I don’t mean. I can promise you that much, cross my heart and hope to die. Or, um, not die.” There was an irritating song stuck in Lucy’s head going la-la-la-la-liar...

“Sounds good to me,” Jo said, smiling appreciatively. “Sorry for being annoying.”

“You’re not annoying, I’m just being a total queen bitch again. I’m really sorry for yelling at you, Jo. I’m not entirely used to this whole friendship thing yet ‘cause it’s all so new to me—and I guess you’ve just found out why I don’t really have many of them. God, I just need an attitude check every once in a while.” Lucy sighed. “But I really hope we’re still friends...?”

“Of course we are!” Jo said. “Besides, if you’re gonna need an attitude check from time to time, I wouldn’t mind being up for the job.”

“Hired—as long as you’re fine with being my unpaid intern slash total lackey.”

“Oh, I’ll make you pay one way or another.”

“You’ve been threatening me an awful lot today, Miss Taylor.” Lucy arched a daunting brow at Jo. “You really think you can take America’s baddest punk prodigy on?”

“Please. You’d be surprised to see just what I can do to you.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

Lucy smirked and rolled her eyes as Jo lightly punched her shoulder before making a grab for her choker blouse, which she easily twisted out of. Lucy zipped to her feet and made a taunting come-hither motion with one hand while Jo surged toward her again, and she pulled a feign to the right and used it as an opportunity to try to corner Jo. But the blonde girl performed a shockingly quick complex manouevre that completely caught Lucy off-guard, as Jo twisted her by the wrist and swept her outbalanced legs from beneath, easily pushed her back down to the sofa, and ultimately managed to pin her against it, one nimble leg locked over Lucy’s knee and Jo’s forearm pressed deep into her heaving chest to keep her from escaping.

“Told you I’m always ready for a challenge.”

“Touché. Colour me a hot-pink shade of impressed,” Lucy said, not even bothering to squirm her futile way out. “You weren’t the locked-up tower damsel in distress I thought you were.”

“Oh?” Jo cooed slyly. She was clearly savouring every minute of it (not that Lucy couldn’t say the same—but never admit defeat to your enemy and all that jazz). “Did Kendall never mention that my dad’s a trained Marine and CIA employee, and that daddy’s little girl went through intense judo training from age five to get her supper?”

“Your dashing Knight in flannel armour never mentioned a lot of things about you.” Lucy’s lips curled in between shallow breaths. “I wonder why.”

“I guess that means you’re not the only one keeping secrets, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“So you and me, what’s our deal now? I thought you said no more secrets?”

“Well, maybe leave some between the devil and me.” Lucy’s brash conviction fell flat, lost to the stunning sight in front of her spinning her into mental vertigo. Jo’s perfectly-coiffed ringlets were now a tangled mess over her forehead as it freely waterfalled over Lucy’s hot-pink face, and her breaths—damn it, I should really stop staring at those bewitched lips—were so heavy on Lucy’s neck that she found herself shivering and ticklish all over. Stupid oversensitive skin. She deliriously wondered if Jo’s barred arm was also bruising from how hard her heartbeats were walloping out of her ribcage. “So...what else can you do to me, Rapunzel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” With a promising glee, Jo finally released her captor and stood up, smoothing back her hair and stretching her body as if their tussle never happened. “But hey, I’m tired and you’re tired and we’re all fried in the brains, so that’s a girl fight for another day, don’t you think?”

“I’ll make sure to chalk up that appointment.” Lucy accepted Jo’s helping hand and handed the other girl’s shopping bags in turn. With this, they instinctively linked arms as they walked to the front door.

“So, same time next week?” Jo asked expectantly.

“Are you talking about the hanging out or the fighting?” Lucy replied.

“Hmm...maybe a little bit of both. For funsies.”

“Hey, dinner and a movie first, missy!” Lucy exclaimed all huffy, making Jo laugh and whap her with a bag again. “But seriously though, whatever it is, I’m looking forward to it, as long as it’s with you.”

Jo searchingly peered at her. “Really?”

“Totally! I know I don’t have many people around here I could talk to apart from the Big Time Gonzos and you and Camille, and there’s never a dull moment, to say the least, but...I just really like being with you the most, Jo,” Lucy confessed. She hated herself worse the more she talked, but the dam had burst and she was unable to keep herself from blabbing on. “Now that we’ve got our issues out of the way, I think I could just talk to you, like really talk to you, no supermutant telepathy needed. Somehow, it makes me hope that I’ll never have to feel like I gotta be someone else other than myself now. So...I don’t know. This sounds super weird and stupid to say, but I kinda feel like...you could be my best friend. Or maybe even more than that...?”

Woah, nelly. Can we get some lip stitcher for the TMI snitcher here??? It must’ve been Lucy’s mind getting scrambled and smeared like avocado toast under the humid evening heat. Or from too much sugar-shocked Mint Brownie Blizzard DQ’s, because why the hell was she suddenly getting all soft and sappy now? Yeah, she was more than used to speaking her mind, but it was usually sharp edges and bad decisions like Jo just unfortunately witnessed, but not this...this goopy tempur-pedic heart mess!

“I dunno, it’s whatever, but you’re cool and stuff, and it’s really nice to wind down from work without getting caught up in insane tree hat schemes or Camille’s crazy acting gigs and have some vanilla peace and quiet sometimes with someone, so like. It’s whatever! Ugh, sorry. Lame. Not you—I just, me—I’m...so lame. Yeah. Um. Thanks. Bye.”

A deafening beat of silence, Jo softening into what could’ve been a second of sympathetic uncertainty, or a thousand years of embarrassed concern. Lucy scuffed her ancient Demonia boots against the dusty carpet, wordlessly counted the dirty palm prints in dire need of a good vacuuming and an entire pricey overhaul that their cheapskate manager would never pay for, and tugged absently at her handmade Lockpicks button, picking and pressing at the black and red marker-scribbled logo until she felt the open pin pierce past her jacket and dig into her numb hammering chest. She wanted to slam the door in Jo’s face to saver her own. Or slam her dysfunctional head between the doorway just to get everything over with.

Yeah, great save there, Stone. Only made you sound like a backed-up motorcycle that won’t start. Peanut butter smooth enough to choke a three year-old. That storm’s one for the playbooks, Lzzy Fail with a capital L for Loserville—

“I don’t know what else to say except for...thank you so much, Lucy.” At last, Jo’s reply mercifully cuts into the musician’s tirade of self-resentment, her sincere voice wavering into delicate brushstrokes and painting Lucy’s face with cosmic bloom. “For this day out. For your honesty. And for everything else.”

Lucy expected a judo slap in the face more than she did gratitude. She would’ve taken it like a champ too, if it’d help her come back to her senses. What? Huh? “Whuh?”

Aaand there’s the slap from her stupid dysfunctional brain to save the friggin’ day. Girl, snap your mouth shut and get yourself together before you have a full-blown aneurysm in front of Jo, come on.

“I’m just really glad to hear that from you, is all,” Jo continued. “‘Cause here I thought it’d never stop being weird after everything that happened between us and even now, I still wasn’t even sure if you really liked me or we’re just doing this to try to be polite with each other...”

“Ohoho believe me, I’m constantly five seconds away from slipping cyanide in your blue smoothies.”

Jo chuckled at Lucy’s amused threat. “Well, thank you for not doing that, and for being an amazing friend. I’m glad that you feel safe enough to be comfortable with me now. All the things you said, I just, I feel the same way about you, I really do. I know I’m not the best with my words right now,” At least you’ve got some words in, unlike miss guppy gaper over here—“But you...um, this just really means a lot to me.”

Lucy’s breath hitched as Jo smiled gently and reached out towards her—too high to be her arm, too low to be anywhere else. Was it a handshake? A hug? A well-deserved slap? Another surprise scuffle?

Even with everything at a standstill, there wasn’t enough time left in the world to find out.

The sound of a chirpy lo-fi ringtone cut through the air, jolting Lucy into a sharp exhale and a spat profanity. Jo halted dead in her tracks to fish out her phone from her shorts pocket and check the incoming notification, her earnest countenance immediately whittling down a weary resignation.

“It’s Kendall,” Jo announced as she idly scrolled through the accursed message. “He’s asking why I didn’t reply to his text twenty minutes ago and what time I’ll be back—and if I got him the latest Hockey Action magazine with that one...sports dude on the cover from the newsstand. I think he had like, brown hair and a weird name but that’s literally all I remember...like he really expects me to tell any of them apart?” She groaned. “They all just look like blurry uniformed guys to me!”

“Oh.”

The actress tiredly laid her glowing phone screen against her scrunched forehead, starkly illuminating the stressed lines creasing her face. “I’m sorry about that, I just...I love Kendall, I really do, but he’s been really testing my patience more and more these days. It seems like all we ever do is bicker and fight about dumb things that shouldn’t matter too much, and then we make up and kiss, and then repeat the whole crazy cycle and I’m used to it by now, but...maybe I shouldn’t be?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Wow, where’d all that big talk disappear off to, big girl? You sound like a stuck soundboard, chrissakes.

“Y’know, sometimes I think I’d be better off if I didn’t get back together with him at all and we just—” Jo sighed abruptly, repocketing her phone. “Nevermind. Sorry. Don’t wanna ruin our perfect day any more than I already have with some extra boring boy friend drama.”

“Okay.” There it was again, that ferocious hydra, writhing and biting and threatening to burst from under Lucy’s taut skin, screaming ‘was that a pause in between boy and friend or did she just run out of breath???’. Apparently metaphorical mythical monsters (ten points for the alliteration skills there, Maya Angelou) can also be total tinfoil hat nutters, grrreat.

“Yeah,” Lucy scoffed a little louder, blithely crossing her arms. “Better not. Anyway, I got a warm shower soak and a Capri Blue Volcano bath bomb in here with my name on it, and you better check in on Kendork before he blows a blond gasket and rips up half the state of California just trying to look for you, so. Don’t want the poor kid thinking I’m stealing his best girl away from him, huh?” Girl, what kinda weirdass joke was that?! God, just shutupshutupshutup—

“Well, right now you have a better fighting chance than him.”

Okay, either someone suddenly decided to throw a huge (highly illegal) party in the next apartment room out of nowhere, or the popping confetti and champagne and victorious rave music and flashing strobe lights were all in Lucy’s head. Lucy’s very confused, very impossible, decidedly insane head.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to hang around?” Jo asked. “A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, and I wouldn’t mind it at all. Kendall would probably only lay waste and ruin to Sacramento and Anaheim by that time. And if you want, I could also make you a mean grilled chicken salad.” She tilted her head and coyly lifted her shoulders. “I mean not to brag, but. Gotta keep myself busy in the tower somehow.”

Yes, please stay, please don’t, I don’t know what I want with you except for it’s a lot even if you probably want nothing to do with me, maybe you should stay with me so we could figure this mess out together or maybe we don’t just as long as we’re together and you won’t have to fight anyone for a kiss, please fucking stay or I’ll miss you around—

“Nah, I’m gonna miss those cheesy ghost tours and gastropubs if he does that, but cheers for the offer anyway.” Lucy replied with a wink—oh gross, she did that a lot, why the hell does she do that a lot? She seriously needed to call an ophthalmologist’s office sometime to get checked for uncontrollable eye spasms. Or maybe it was the home of the future’s ancient dirty furnishings giving her an allergy reaction something awful and she could sue the pants off Bitters instead. “Now beat it.”

“Awww, but we were having such a moment!”

“Well you already let your hair down, so not anymore, princess.”

Maybe it was Lucy’s imagination being a little demon again, but there seemed to be a crestfallen hint to Jo’s smile at her brisk refusal. So Lucy decided to reach out past the weird space and surprised her friend (though considerably a lot less than she surprised herself) with a gentle embrace; cold sweat palms comfortably flush against Jo’s shoulder blades to slow their descent down even for just a moment longer, silent butterfly whispers fluttering under her wispy breath to never let go.

Jo unsurely squared up a bit before easing into the gesture and matching it, and that’s when Lucy let go and playfully elbowed her away, not bothering to draw away the curtain of red-streaked hair that had fallen over her face. Had it always been a thousand degrees here, or was Buddha Bob messing around with the perpetually-broken thermostat again? It really was a wonder of the world why she chose to move back to this busted joint. But maybe it was worth it because of something else. Someone else.

Surely the princess isn’t in another castle now.

“Now take my affection and scram before I choke you with it, Josephine,” Lucy warned breathily, shaking a curmudgeonly fist at Jo.

“Oh, really? And how are you gonna do that, exactly?” Jo grinned back, a challenging tryst as she shrugged her slipping cardigan sleeve back onto her chambray shirt, all frisky static and fleecy denim, the kind Lucy hated she loved. “Because if we’re gonna have a proper dinner and a movie date soon, then you better be ready to show me sometime.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No need to beg at all. Love you too, Lucille.”

Jo simply winked back, one tender hand to touched to Lucy’s chin as the actress leaned in to kiss her on the cheek—a shy flitting gesture that devolved into vicious hummingbirds tearing apart Lucy’s chest heartbeat by paralysed heartbeat—before Jo gathered her tote bag and newly-purchased belongings, casually waved to her friend one last time, and walked away.

Lucy’s hand let go of the remaining shopping bags—taking no heed of the sound of shattering glass—as it instinctively curled towards her crimson-clashed face, the scent of familiar Velvet Rose and shared mint brownie and vanilla lipgloss dizzyingly overwhelming, trembling electric fingertips tracing what was perfectly spelled out in front of her all along but she was just too stupidly blind to see.

Shocking white blinding Lucy’s vision like intrusive camera flashes worse than hectic press releases, bitterness breaking apart upon remembering the way her heart just about crashed to her freshly-pampered toes when Jo happily embraced her by the shoulders, the phantom sensation of their sweaty bodies pressed delicately and melted together in that cramped Sears photo booth, Jo holding up a peace sign that bumped against Lucy’s devil horns as the blonde stuck her bubblegum-purple tongue out so ridiculously that Lucy hadn’t smiled that hard it hurt since forever, hadn’t felt her stomach cramp up with the kind of unfettered laughter that rang in her ears too loud and untwisted her heated guts and made her feel a little more sane despite all the haunting madness—leaving only a blurry collage of pretty memories to be stuck on fridge doors or placed under pillows for sweeter dreams.

There wasn’t just something about Jo Taylor, apparently—it was everything about her.

Click, click, click, love-laced gears in Lucy’s annoying head gnashing towards a mortified understanding, senseless steam clouding her brain and choking up her restricting throat as the excruciating realisation scribbled warning-red question marks everywhere and derailed their exquisite friendship straight into a messy, confusing, dramatic trainwreck.

Most likely it was nothing. Just a friendly gesture. Just an offhand faux flirt for an offhand faux-flirter. But then again...maybe it meant everything. Maybe Jo meant it. Maybe Jo really felt the same way about her. Maybe the whole date schtick was beginning to dance the line past an overplayed joke into a serious invitation (would his ex-not-boyfriend be pissed if they ended up dating the same girl?). Maybe Lucy just had to turn her head the right way and take Jo down like her impulse-rabid brain hydras were screaming at her to even if that meant stirring up a paparazzi frenzy of the century, alt-scene’s baddie ‘pop-princess’ gone worse with the sweetheart new town queen, to stir their sucked blood in the shark-infested waters and devastate their contract-clean reputations—who ever heard of such a thing?—who the hell could tell anymore?—and who the hell cared about all this MTV-level drama, anyway?

She was too smartmouthed for her own good, all that shammed bravado and sweetsour chit-chat, too cool for class and calculated down to the point just to push people away, too full of shit...she was Lucy Stone, for crying out loud—and that meant nothing at all when she was trying fight against, with, for a girl she’s already lost to, once, twice, a million times over.

Why couldn’t she just shut up and shut it down like she always did this time around?

Lucy couldn’t run away anymore, so the only thing left to do was to write a hundred songs about being weak and making herself miserable and throw it all in the fireplace, because she already sold her soul to the devil. Fake it until you unmake it...and hope it would also unmake all the aching weirdness, the weird overthoughts, the weird way Jo left her hanging on and falling away to snap her neck on the rope she was barely holding onto...this was nothing like the best cheek kisses Lucy had ever served to all the nevermore nobodies she’d vaguely crushed on before, and yet Jo felt like all of those at once.

And more—the kind of more that she wanted, the way she wanted Jo, would Jo want her like they’re meant to be together, would Jo even want her...friendship shouldn’t feel this desperate, this complicatedly messy, this fucking painful. Lucy really wants to be with Jo. She wants Jo. She wants...

Oh, shit biscuits.

a/n: idk if anyone will ever make it this far lmao, but if you see this, thanks for reading!! (⑉⺥˶˶̫˶⺥⑉)💗

[blficarchive]

‘Til I Tasted You by kiwikero

Additional Tags: #Famous Harry, #Non-Famous Louis, #Alternate Universe - College/UniversityMutual, #Pining, #Masturbation, #Strangers to Lovers, #Fluff

Summary: Louis is Harry Styles’ biggest fan. It doesn’t matter that Harry is famous for being a food blogger and Louis can’t cook to save his life.

At least, until Harry offers to give Louis a cooking lesson. Then it matters just a teensy bit.

You Strike A Match by togetherwecouldbealright

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - College/University, #Secret AdmirerFluff

Summary: I can’t remember the other 21 letters of the alphabet. All I know is U R A QT.

Louis stares at the note taped to the door of his dorm for a few seconds, uncomprehending. Either he’s seeing things or there’s actually a tiny piece of paper, addressed To: Louis with a terrible pick-up line on it.

OR the one where Louis receives a note from his secret admirer for every letter of the alphabet.

once upon a dream by thedeathchamber

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, #Angst, #Slow Burn, #Enemies to Lovers, #Hurt/Comfort, #Emotional Hurt/Comfort, #Mental Health Issues, #Anal Sex, #Bottom Louis, #Blow Jobs, #Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement

Summary: Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) by rainbowsandgucci (petzawentz)

Additional Tags: #Background Relationships, #Fluff, #Angst, #Miscommunication, #Falling In Love, #Slow Burn, #Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, #Alternate Universe - Orchard, #Orchard AU, #apple orchard, #Daddy Kink, #References to Drugs, #Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, #Harry calls Louis princess a lot but like, #theres no like feminization or anything, #Oh also there is no cheating, #It might seem like there would be, #Bc of Harry/ZaynBut there is 0 cheating nope nope nope

Summary: ”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx”

—

Louis is staying at his Aunt’s farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.

Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry’s friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.

He also starts to fall in love with Harry.

Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

Tell Me What You Want by stylinsoncity

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - College/University, #Beards (Relationships), #Pining, #Nudism

Summary: Based on the following prompt:

“Harry is looking for a new roommate after Liam moves in with his girlfriend. After a few bad dates he’s done with men for the moment and wants to concentrate on school. That’s why he’s looking for a female or a straight male roomie. When Niall tells Louis about the free room he leaves that little detail out. Louis, desperately looking for a room, pretends to be straight, thinking it would be easy, until he discovers that Harry likes to be naked at home. His best female friend posing as his girlfriend doesn’t work very well either.”

Sea Salt and Chocolate by cupcakeL

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, #Baker Harry, #Strangers to Lovers, #Friends to Lovers, #Cheating, #but like the ex was cheating, #This is a fluff piece, #Singer Louis, #Pining Harry

Summary: “How can I help you?” He looked at the customer and wow, Harry was pretty sure this guy had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. When the guy opened his mouth Harry could almost feel the venom in his voice. “Do you have some kind of truffle that passive aggressively says ‘fuck you’?”Or Harry owns a confectionary/café and Louis is an aspiring musician who needs to break up with his boyfriend via truffles.

another hazy may by deLILAh

Additional Tags: #harry shoots guns better than he shoots footie, #and louis writes in the third person, #also starring niall’s snapback as the crown jewels, #zayn’s kardashian poster as the foundation of a friendship, #and liam payne as batman

Summary: louis is a terrible poet and harry lives in the now and they have six weeks to fall in love but, really, it only takes six seconds. bookshop meets military meets summer romance au ft. marlboros, the backstreet boys, and underrated literary devices.

Written In The Stars by alex4968

Additional Tags: #Slow Build, #Vampires, #Blood, #Mild Gore, #Human Louis, #Vampire Zayn, #Vampire Liam, #Vampire Harry, #Human Niall, #inequality within society, #Vampire AU, #Eventual Smut, #Top!Harry, #bottom!Louis,#Harry is kind of an asshole at first, #but I promise he gets better, #he’s just confused, #He was raised differently than Zayn was, #Dark Plot, #Explicit Sexual Content, #Spanking, #Rimming, #Hand Jobs, #harry has some… daddy vibes, #rape mention (doesn’t happen but tagging just in case)

Summary: It was so different - the complete opposite of everything Louis had ever expected about finally being placed into the real world. Zayn defied every single thing he’d ever been told about vampires, about how he was supposed to be treated. This was nothing like what he’d expected.[or: Zayn’s the third oldest vampire in the world and found himself searching out the company of a human, so he took Louis as his keep. His maker Harry doesn’t approve.]

Worth Dying For by Anonymous

Additional Tags: #Explicit Sexual Content, #Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, #Alternate Universe - Royalty, #Bodyguard, #kidnapping, #violence at the end

Summary: “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

The Fragmented Veil by missberrycake

Additional Tags: #Alternate Universe - Vampire, #Non-Graphic Violence, #vampire!Harry, #Vampire!Zayn, #vampire!niall, #Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, #vampire!Louis, #Minor Character Death

Summary: In which Louis gets attacked one night in the dark. It changes his life, just not in the way he expected.

[montanababe7]

Unshakable: One Woman's Journey from Desperation to Wholeness in Jesus Jessica's Autobiography: My Story & Devotional  (She was conditioned to believe she was broken. For years, this woman had bought into the lie that her only value stemmed from other people's perceptions of her.  She desperately wanted to believe that she could have a will of her own.  Instead, every decision and choice she made while growing up was dictated  by her birth mother).     I was depressed and suicidal for years. Honestly, I didn't see any other way out. I just felt stuck. The best way I can describe this feeling was picturing a wind up doll with string. Someone else was controlling the movement of the doll. Picture Pinocchio and the evil puppet Meister. He didn't actually care about Pinocchio or any of the other puppets in his control, all he cared about was the profits he would gain from them and how they would make him look in town. Every accomplishment I ever made was for my mom's benefit, not mine. I wasn't even allowed to go into town without makeup on; because God forbid if one of her fellow work associates or potential business clients saw me with her and I ruined her business. At one point, she even told me that no man would ever love or even notice me if I wasn't wearing makeup or my hair was perfectly dolled up. The song: the real me by Natalie Grant mirrors the sad life I knew while growing up. She even mentioned that my eyes were mouse like without any makeup on and that the guy who said I was butt ugly without makeup make on, but gorgeous with it on had a point. My own mother said this about me. Her words crushed me. What mother would do this to her own child. My father was the opposite, he has always been so loving. He told me that I am a natural beauty and that makeup should only enhance it. Another sad truth, One year, the church we attended as a family, they were putting together a young adults group, I told my mom how excited I was to go and make great friends. She told me that I wasn't allowed to because God forbid I go and meet the wrong one. So as you can see, it was one thing after the other. I felt like repunzel from tangled. I was wanted to live my own life, but I was her flower to use emotionally. Nevermind the fact that I was dead inside. Every chance I made to succeed in college, she put a stop to. Blackmails and ultimatums were her speciality. It didn't matter how much mascara I went through. I always ran out. I even gave her my end of the year tax return money out of guilt because of the passive aggression she used to imply I was a terrible daughter for not being grateful to live at the Minnesota home for free aside from endless housework. It broke my heart to see my other siblings flourishing and happy. They weren't on a tight leash. They were free. Not me. The only comfort I had was my friends over messenger. It felt like I was only a allowed a fake life when housework was perfect by her standards. She even dumped my ex boyfriend through a letter she wrote to him. I didn't even have a say in that either. So you see, nothing in that time in my life; I had a say in. Let's not forget, the pitiful lamb of the family garbage. She told me that it was my duty to be the lamb of the family. I was born to suffer and be sick for my family's sake. That God made weak so my siblings would. be strong.  What she told me through those years, was that God would handpick one person from every family to pay the price. That God had called me as a watchman on the wall. One day in college, I told her that I was done being the lamb of the family and it wasn't my job to intercede for them. She told me that if they died and went to hell; then their blood would be on my hands.  That woman was twisting God's word around for her own gain. Wow. So sad. Looking back, what a sad, pitiful woman who was bent on bringing to others for her own enjoyment. I was a victim to all of it and have been having ugly cry while writing this. I was so broken. It wasn't my choice. These were the sad circumstances of that time period. Somehow, miraculously, I never went through with suicide. I kept believing that Jesus had a better plan for my life than my current circumstances had deemed to say for me. Instead, I chose to focus on caring about others and reminding them of their value in Christ. I asked God to give me His heart for people.     Those stagnant years of living at my parents house, thankfully didn't last forever.      In 2012, I met my future husband. Through months of dating, God worked in Michael to break down all my deep walls of pain. He began praying for me. As he spoke words of life and words of knowledge over me, I began to see myself how God viewed me. One night, depression and suicidal thoughts hit hard. there was so much control and a man pleasing spirit in that house: I would see demons come through the walls in my old bedroom and my entire bedroom at night was blood red. The night I was gonna attempt suicide, the room was blood red. Both sides in the spiritual realm were fighting for my destiny����. Jesus wanted me alive. The enemy wanted me dead. The reason I was ready to end it all, was because-all I saw was a never-ending life of housework and my mother's control. I wasn't allowed to have friends, she wouldn't permit me to date, she acted like God. At that point, I couldn't see a way out except for death. God pulled Michael into deep intercession mode for me. He began desperately praying for my life. He told me that God spoke to him, that my life was in imminent danger and he needed to pray immediately. I had planned on committing suicide. His intercession broke through the pain and I wanted to live. With a new lease on life, I began to think on what could be; instead of what couldn't. All at once I saw an opening I couldn't see before. Michael loved me unconditionally. His love for me was one without strings being attached. It was a love that was unfamiliar to me. He saw me. The real me. He saw my brokenness. The vulnerability and the rawness of a woman who been caged all her life. She was accustomed to a life of emotional chains. Don't go here and don't go there was her old normal. Her life had been completely shaped  by a woman who had been bent on usurping her energy and joy. With just once glance from my birth mother I'd freeze. I would go completely numb. Michael rescued me from that emotional prison. I felt a burst of freedom at the thought of finally escaping. He prayed for me when I needed it most. I am forever grateful for all the love he has poured into my life. God knew Michael was everything and more than I could have ever prayed for. Even typing this and doing a mental log of yesteryear, I am looking on this with new eyes shocked at just the travesty of all the hardships I endured and how Jesus held me throughout it all.    A few months later in 2013, Michael and I, got married. I moved away from my childhood home in MN to MT. The impact of being away from the woman who birthed me has been monumental. I not only fully forgave her; but I have also found the freedom to independence. For nearly 16 years, I made every effort to obtain my driver's permit and ultimately drive away to freedom, but to no avail.  (That was in MN).  that season was full of brokenness, but there was also so much of God's beauty that had broken through. Even in the darkest seasons and moments, I learned how strong I really am.     In Montana, I had very little trouble attaining my driver's permit and driver's license. But, that's only the beginning of my well being's transformation. I have gained a confidence of loving who I am and being comfortable in my own skin.  I have begun to discover who I really am. I am a loving wife to my wonderful husband, I have wonderful children, and I am so blessed with amazing friends that I consider family. Today, I see myself as a woman made strong by God's faithfulness. I am a woman who has been forged through the fire and pain. God has given me a compassion for those who have been made broken, because I know what it means to hit rock bottom and all you can do is to look up and cry out to God for help. I have prayed for friends throughout the night. God has moved mountains on our behalf time and time again. We have moved cross country twice. We have seen God do the impossible. I have cried till I felt there weren't any tears left. I remember days, when I didn't know how I would go on. The moments when money was tight; God provided. I have seen God come through for us time and time again. I have grown in my walk with God. I have prayed more and rejoiced more. There isn't anything our God can't do. I want to inspire others. Speaking into other people's lives. Pouring into them the truth of healing through Christ. I feel like a bird freed from the cage I was in. Looking back, I know I wouldn't have survived any of those onslaughts without Jesus. If I were someone else reading my story, I wouldn't have a clue how Jessica had survived all that.   This journey of discovery, has shed years of pain and trauma.  I'm on a mission to help others like myself become wholly free through Jesus. I want others to know the beauty of what it truly means to be free through Jesus. I want others to step forward into their best days for the rest of their life.  The Presence of Jesus has come in like a flood. Washing away every ounce of heartache and pain. I have asked Jesus to have every access of my heart. Everything is forever laid bare before the Author of all Time. The King of all kings. And the Lord of all Lords. Everyday . Every moment of my entire life. My very existence is His. I'm no longer holding back in fear. I am confident today because of Jesus. He paid the price for me. He made a way for me; even when I was broken.He made a way.   When all hope felt gone; Jesus Christ of Nazareth was right there. He made a way for me. This wholeness in Jesus that I have found, it is my prayer that other people will find themselves breaking free from pain of their past too. The beauty of becoming whole in Jesus is so delicious and is overwhelmingly satisfying. He reaches deep down into your heart. Healing you. Changing you deeply from the inside out and you simply are never the same again.   My prayer everyday, is that I will be the mother that my spiritual children and natural children need me to be.  Every day, I want to continually point them to Jesus. I want them to always see themselves through the loving eyes of their Heavenly Father.  My prayer for them, is that they will always know what it means to be loved unconditionally by a God who will never stop pursuing them and Who is madly in love with them. Even when I grow old, I pray that my life will be seen as an example of a woman who once felt so low and then God raised her up.     To my readers,  it is my prayer for you; that everyday, that you will discover just how much Jesus loves you. Death is never the answer. It is never the easy way out. God has instilled within you all so much purpose value. You are a tremendous gift. God has forever planted so many beautifully intricate things within you. He wants you to find out who you really are. Your life is not a mistake. You are not a mistake. You are a masterpiece from the very Hand of God. God created you with so much destiny. Begin to ask Jesus to forever reveal your identity. Every person has been born with a calling and a destiny on their life. Wherever you are right now, God wants you to stop doubting your value. He has a good plan for your life. Jeremiah 29:11. You matter. Remember, your mistakes do not define you. Ask Jesus for forgiveness of all the wrongs you have ever made. Allow Jesus to wash them away by His Precious Blood. Ask Jesus to come into your heart and life. Pray with me right now,   Jesus,  I know that I am sinner in need of a Savior. Rescue me. Change me. Save me. Redeem me. Please come into my heart. Be my Savior. Be my Lord. I am yours forever Lord God! Thank you Jesus for saving me writing/recording my name down in the Lamb's Book of Life. From this day forward, I am a Christian. In Jesus Name I pray, Amen!       My dear friend,   If you just prayed that prayer, your name is forever written down in the Lamb's Book of Life! You will never be the same again! Welcome to the Family of God! God has a wonderful plan for your life. He sees you and He knows you. Wherever reading this book finds you:  Wherever it be- in a coffee shop, bookstore, shops, or in the comfort of your own home, etc,. I want you all to remember this one thing, You matter to God. You always have and you will always will.  That's the beauty of the Heart of the Father; you will always matter.    Next,  The Holy Spirit is prompting me too speak on inner healing. You might have had bad things to you. Things that were out of your control. The enemy of your soul, wants you to allow hatred and unforgiveness to fester deep. No matter what happened, forgive. I cannot state that enough.  Now, ask Jesus to begin to heal you. He wants every broken heart made whole. The Holy Spirit is ministering to you right now. Allow God to take you to the painful places, those places that brought pain. Ask Him to remove the sting of the trauma. He wants to bring healing. He wants your story to help someone else get free. But, you need to be healed first.  Friend, I want to pray for you.  Dear God, Wherever my reader finds themselves right now, I ask You God to begin to pour Your light upon those painful places; and pull out the sting. Thank you for releasing Your healing balm of Gilead and love over them right now. I thank You Father God that they are forgiving each and every person who has ever hurt them. I thank You Father God that they are submitting every pain and every hurt to the foot of the Cross. They are leaving it there.  Thank You Father God for restoring them right now, releasing Your Supernatural Oil of Healing refreshment and peace.  I declare in the Matchless Name of Jesus that Your  Love is flooding into all those places right now. Thank you Father God for restoring them. Do what only You can do. You are more than able Lord God to restore all. Thank You Father God, that they are inviting You to be on the journey of freedom in Jesus. In Your Precious Name Jesus, We do pray, Amen!  My Dear Friends,  I want you all to know that you truly are never alone. Jesus is the Friend that sticks closer than a brother. I am so excited for all of you to discover who you truly are in Jesus. You all have so much value and purpose. You matter. You have purpose. Remember this, that you and I, are far more than conquerors through Christ Jesus of Nazareth who loves us! You can all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens you! The fact that you are still here and you are reading this book right now, is not an accident. God set you up today. He led you to find this book. Why? Because Jesus loves you and I, everyday and He wants you to discover just how loved you are. You have a purpose. You have a destiny. I want you to shout out for joy; because all those years of heartache, trauma, and pain are all being melted away By Jesus Precious Blood. Can I hear an Amen! Declare out loud with me right now, that you are sound in mind and body. Declare, that God will finish what He has started. Declare, that He who has begun a good work in you; is faithful to complete it. God isn't finished with you yet! Begin to shout for Joy that Jesus has set you free! For remember, He Whom the Son has set free; is free indeed. You are not your father. You are not your mother. You are you. God already knows the path you will take. He knows where this is going. Nothing ever surprises Him. You are not too far gone for God to love you. You are enough. Say that right now with me:      I am enough through Christ. I matter. I am loved. I am accepted. I am accepted by the Beloved. That can be you today. You can be happy and confident through Jesus. You have nothing to lose! There's freedom in Christ.    Wherever you find yourself right now, remember this; you are never too far gone for God to love you. Right now, you can feel the Holy Spirit reaching out to you. He is drawing you closer to His side. Despite what anyone has ever told you. You are a leader. You stand out. You Shine. Let go of all of the negative words that have ever been spoken over you. All those negative voices have to leave right now in the Matchless Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth! Begin to inquire of the Lord God Almighty- what are His Dreams for your life. Design a vision board. Pick up a Journal. Begin penning down what the Holy Spirit impresses upon your heart. There is so much that Jesus wants to speak to you. You are Jesus Beloved Child. You are His Son. You are His Daughter. He loves you and wants to spend time with you.    Spending time with Jesus and reading God's Word is what got me through high school and some of the most trying times of my life. When my high school friends abandoned me; I clung to Jesus. When my world seemed shattered; I forgave and I set my sights on Jesus. He reminded me that those hard times were temporary and wouldn't last forever. When I could have turned away from God; instead, I gave God everything. Even in the difficult moments, when life didn't make sense-Jesus was still there. There have been beautiful moments in my life too. The young people and adults I've mentored throughout the years. I have seen countless precious people be completely transformed in the Presence of God. There's one thing I know for certain. God has always been there for me; no matter what. He's there for you too!      I pray this book finds you feeling stronger in your faith and in knowing that God will never your side no matter what.  No matter the length of this book, it is my heartfelt prayer that you are already better because of reading it. Wherever you find yourself, remember this: You're an inspiration to many. God  has placed within you indescribable giftings and talents. You're more loved than you possibly can ever imagine. Ephesians 3:20. Now, Go and change your world for Christ!     Everyday, let a smile rest on your face as you remember God's Goodness and Faithfulness each and every day! Your journey is as unique as you are. Your entire life tells a story. What are you doing with it? It's never too late to make an impact on someone. Share with others how much Jesus loves them. I encourage you guys to bring a smile to someone's face today. Ask God to show you the gold in someone- meaning: bring out the best in others. Be the reason somebody is alive today. You are making a difference whether you realize it or not. Pray for everyone. Love everyone just as Jesus first loved you.   God is healing your heart right now. Those painful ashes of deep pain are being washed away by Jesus Blood. Hold your head up today. Love yourself. Instead of seeing yourself as being unworthy or unloved, you're a beloved Son of God and you're a beloved daughter of God is transforming your pauper mindset. Into one of royalty. God is removing your spiritual rags and is beautifully replacing them with elegant ballroom clothes. The finest tuxedo and the most extravagant ball gown. Exquisite with cascading diamonds and other flawless jewels & gemstones. My dear friends, that is how God sees you. And I'l say it again: You are all royalty in Christ. You have just to believe it. When you start viewing others through the heart of Jesus and from the perspective of Heaven: you begin to see them through His Eyes. That's the Beauty of having a heart of God for others. You begin to cry out for them. What a precious gift it is to get to pour into others through prayer and building them up.   You are leaving behind a powerful legacy for God that will impact countless souls for eternity. This is my journey and I'm so so blessed to include you guys in it! There are some pretty amazing people who have always been there for me and their prayers&encouragement are a huge reason why I'm alive today. They have poured into me . They have prayed with me and for me. They have encouraged me. They have built me up when I've been down. I want to say a huge thanks:    First to God-Thank you for always being there. To my Dad Michael Farnam-I love you so much. Thank you for always having my back. To my Husband Michael Wolf-You're my best friend, my lover, and my rock. To My Camp Girls-you are all amazing! I love and pray for you gals daily! To all those I've impacted over the years-I've never stopped praying for you or ever stopped believing in you! To Carrie Park Sears-You're one of my best friends, my precious sister in Christ. Thank you for building me up when I've need it most. Let's not forget all the ugly laughter and ugly crying. To Kelc- for being one of my besties and praying for both of our spouses-many hours of prayer and tears! To Tisha-To such an amazing sister in Christ, and one of my very best friends, to a fellow infj. So many prayers. To Kathy-Thank you for being my amazing friend and constant inspiration/role model To Alyson-I’m so thankful that you’re one of my best friends. Jesus has truly given you a heart of gold. Life can definitely bring many challenges; but we’ve also seen amazing blessings along the way. I’m so proud of who you are And a many thanks to so many My final thoughts: Never let the world diminish your light. Show them Jesus. I'd never be where I am today without Jesus. Thanks for reading! -Jessica Wolf

[artistsiveinterviewed-blog]

Nika Antuanette 26

Born: Chicago, Illinois

Current home: Brooklyn, New York

Main Medium: Dance

Who inspires you the most as an artist?

I’m very inspired by Israeli contemporary dance so I would just say that a lot of Israeli-American and just Israeli choreographers have really inspired me recently in the past few years. Roni Koresh is definitely one of them… I mean Ohad Nahrin, being here with Gaga, Batsheva… amazing. Rami Be’er’s work with KCDC (Kibbutz Contemporary Dance Company) because I was studying there and I love that repertoire. So that would be a few handful of people for sure. Andrea Miller in New York who danced with Batsheva ensemble as well and has Gallim dance company. But I also love Larry Keigwin’s work and elements of Paul Taylor… I’m interested in a wide range of artists but it’s become narrowed. My interests have become more specified since I’ve been to Israel and lived here for seven months. I just can’t dance the same as I used to before when I was in school.

What is your favorite spot or your most inspirational place in Israel?

Honestly I love the beach as cliché as that sounds I’m all about the beach. Like Gordon beach I like to just sit there looking at the water nothing else. Sunbathing is my life. Even if it’s winter I don’t care. I’m not going to put on my bikini necessarily but I’ll hang by the beach. I feel inspired by the water.

What themes do you tend to pursue in your art?

I tend to pursue whatever is like catching me at the moment… A recurring theme I guess is like desire and a sense of being vulnerable to honest moments and experiences and that’s how I try to find honest desire like what does it mean to me. I’m really interested in what we’re drawn to and attraction and love and human sexuality especially is really interesting to me.

What jobs have you done other than being an artist?

I’m a brand ambassador for Kind Healthy Snacks so that’s really cool. I give out complimentary Kind snacks and back people’s day. Spreading kindness, that’s a lot of fun. In the past I worked at a hair salon. I was basically jack of all trades I did everything. I was a shampoo girl, receptionist, cleaned everything, got the tea for the ladies, that kind of thing. I also worked at a tea shop so like a tea merchant/barista in a beautifully privately owned shop in Chicagoland.

What do you dislike about the art world?

I think it’s a shame of course how poorly funded it is. If you’re an independent contractor it’s a lot harder to get grants and public funding in the government especially. You find a few big name companies which are amazing, the big box companies, which will be funded which is great but it’s a very far and few inbetween change to get into one of those companies. It’s also one of those questions like is that what I want? So how can freelancers really make more money… I think that is one of those things that I dislike is the financial resources available. Also I want to be more available and committed to the process and being in a studio but you have to also work and that takes time doing non dance related work. It’s good to be balanced… I think it’s just that the struggle is real you know? Everyone has to hussle. Being in New York that’s very real and Tel Aviv as well.

Are you working on a project right now?

I just concluded a lot of projects last year so currently I am free and open right now. This is really a vulnerable place for me. I don’t have anything lines up for the immediate future and usually I feel like I know what I am going to do in the next few months in a way of independant projects. Currently I’m just thinking about making my own work right now and continuing some stuff I’ve been working with in the studio with some friends in Brooklyn.

What makes you angry? If not angry, what makes you frustrated in the world?

Donald Trump being president. Seriously. This is the most ridiculous and absurd truth but it is the situation. So that angers me. It’s absurd, just absurd. I don’t tend to feel extreme anger a lot because I feel like I’ve come to terms with the fact that that’s not going to solve anything. I’ll acknowledge that [anger] is there but I try to process it and do the best I can… and like how can I better myself because that is what I do have control over something like me being proactive as a human. But anger, wow what else frustrates me? I guess just this lack of wanting to learn. I guess like ignorance but like a perpetuation of ignorance. That really makes me frustrated. And the fact that we can’t understand each other or find peace because of that simple miscommunication… it’s so simple but it’s not easy. It seems like you could talk about it and it sounds nicely put theoretically but it’s still an impossible issue. Like war. War is always going to be there.

What has been a seminal or life changing experience?

Being in Israel… I don’t know if I can pin it down to one instance but I love the fact that Israeli’s are very direct and don’t give you bullshit or beat around the bush. I think they’re very loving and direct people and I love that. I’ve lived in places where, I’ll be honest, people can be passive aggressive and they don’t tell you how it is and I like to hear how it is. I’m as honest as I can be with people and I want to hear the same back. Especially when it comes to my dance training. We can’t just guess and read minds; we have to hear if it’s a mess I was to know. And how to we fix it? How do we explore it? I guess what’s been life changing has been this commitment to movement and being told it’s not acceptable to do it this way or to be lazy. I don’t think lazy is the right word to describe like the worst of me because I’m if anything the opposite. I work too hard. But how do we work in the right way? It’s all about how we work not if we are workings or not. Because I think we can all work hard and it doesn’t necessarily make it work out. I think it’s about working less hard but working smarter. So I think being here I’ve learned to be more efficient and committed to my movement even when I am exhausted. Like how do we use that exhaustion to actually better ourselves and make the movement more interesting?

In your opinion, what role does an artist have in society?

Nina Simone says that “an artist’s duty is to be reflective of the times” so I think that’s a really potent quote. I think it’s being honest with what your conditions are because that’s all we do. Do what you know. For me artists inspire, I think the biggest thing is to inspire and to remember that life doesn’t have to be boring and grey. We don’t have to just sit in a cubicle and have that mundane existence and escape with drinks and prescription pills and TV. I think that we can go out and explore art which might bring us to places that are uncomfortable and difficult to face but it’s healthy and good for us to go to those places. It’s like visiting a dream world and I’m fascinated by dreams so I think artists can pull out like the mystery and the fantasy of life. I felt that sensation watching a show that I’ve been so happy to be taken out of this reality but then how do we take that fantasy and apply it to our everyday life? So I think that artists can inspire people to shake shit up.

In your opinion, what role does an artist have in politics?

I think art can be political. It doesn’t have to be political. People can say oh are you just dancing so dance’s sake then or are you just making art for art’s sake then? What’s the point? Sometimes we don’t even know what the point is so I don’t think that for me political activism is the first reason that I make art but in the end I think it all connects back. Anything like that you can go and connect it to politics but usually that is a secondary road for me personally. Although I know lots of artists that are saying a lot with their work and making commentaries and making people think differently. So yes I think art could have a political commentary but doesn’t have to be. What is the role of art in politics? I guess it just gives you an alternative. Like realizing that we don’t have to just be so black and white, there’s a lot of grey and a lot of things that we don’t understand. Admitting it is the first thing. Like we vote and we have this vote or that vote and it’s very black and white. People are very offended like how could you vote this, think of all these people, and I think I am always the middlewoman. I feel like I can always see both sides and it’s really hard for me to make those drastic choices because lives are on the line and everyone has something at stake. We all have something at stake so in that sense art and politics come together.

What’s the best advice you’ve been given?

I don’t know if it’s the best but it’s something simple that I still carry and take with me. My teacher Toni Pierce-Sands from the University of Minnesota, she’s a beautiful person and human being. She was a soloist at Ailey - just background. Anyway, she told me to just take your time. Another teacher I had, Scott Rink who was from the Lar Lubovitch company was like, why are you rushing to get off stage? When you are doing a solo don’t rush through it. It was like I almost needed to complete all these tasks, that’s how I was doing it at this time. He reminded me to actually enjoy myself onstage and like that’s true. It’s this fleeting moment that’s gone before you know it so actually find the pleasure. Because if I love doing it so much why do I want to rush through it? It makes me wonder. So now I’ve been trying to be okay with surrendering to time and taking my time and therefore enjoying it more. Even though it’s a scarier place to be because you almost lose yourself in that moment. It’s a very vulnerable place to take your time. It’s easier for me to go first and be done with it but no, it doesn’t have to be that way. Something you need to be patient and take your time.